


Questione di sopravvivenza

by NovaNara



Series: Let's write Sherlock (mostly too late) [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, John in Denial, Songfic, Tumblr: letswritesherlock, the song is italian but the fic in english
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaNara/pseuds/NovaNara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Answer to Let's write Sherlock challenge 3 (songfic).  <br/>One italian song does fit John and his favorite madman...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Questione di sopravvivenza

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. It's my birthday and I'm giving you an (unbetaed, obviously unbritpicked) gift: a fic in response to the Let's write Sherlock challenge 3: songfic. The song is “Questione di sopravvivenza” (matter of survival) by Gino Paoli, a great (and romantic) Italian singer-songwriter. The lyrics are in italics, as well as my own translation of them. Oh, and the song talks about a woman, but since adjectives in English aren't different if they pertain to males or females, I took advantage of that. And I don't usually beg for reviews, but it's my birthday and it would be the best gift ever, please?  
> Obviously John's point of view, between TBB and TGG.
> 
> Disclaimer: nothing mine. Not the lyrics, not John and Sherlock (Arthur Conan Doyle's), not Ella, John's blog, whatever else you recognize (BBC's). So tiring to state the obvious!!!

Ok, I'm going to write this because I need to get it out. I'll erase it the moment I'm done (if Sherlock doesn't drag me somewhere before I manage to hit DEL). Knowing my mad flatmate, he'll manage to recuperate the file anyway if he's ever bored enough, but **AS LONG AS HE DOESN'T DO ANYTHING STUPID** **LIKE POSTING THIS ANYWHERE** it doesn't matter. You know it all even without my confirmation, don't you, git? That's why you're so insufferably cocky. 

Or perhaps you seriously have no idea. Sometimes, if I think how bloody good an actor you are (seriously, _why_ didn't you go for that career? You'd have a collection of Oscar awards. Yeah, I know I know: boring) I wonder if you're overcompensating with arrogance for some sort of insecurity. Not that you would ever admit to that even if it were true. Not even under torture. 

 

Anyway, if you've recuperated this, don't misunderstand everything, ok? And don't scoff now. Yes, the best way I can describe what's happening is with an Italian love song, one a fling of mine during a summer holiday translated for me. It's not my fault and it does not imply anything we're both not interested in. But I found the translation by chance the other day tidying up and well...it applies. Most of it, at least. It applies all too well to our situation. 

 

_Senza questa bocca tua che non si stanca mai /di quel che succede io che cosa ne saprei/ è questione di sopravvivenza vivere con te o stare senza te_

_Without this mouth of yours that never tires out/whatever would I know about what happens/ it's a matter of survival to live with you or be without you_

If he weren't an old singer (and this, I think, an old song) I'd ask you if you ever brought him along on cases. Impossible to shut up? Check. Eye opener about whatever happened/is happening? Check. Fantastic? (ok, it doesn't say it in so many words, but it _is_ a love song!) Check, and I make sure to let you know often enough. Matter of survival...I was drifting something awful when I met you. There. It's in the (to be erased) open. Check. Now, if only you cared about your own survival a bit more (seriously Sherlock, it's since our first case and that bloody pill that I have to wonder whether you have a survival instinct _at all_!) my life would be a lot less stressing, but...here comes the problem. 

 

_Ti cercherei se te ne andassi via/ i tuoi difetti mi sono indispensabili/ o cercherei un'altra come te/ che rassomigli a te /perfino nelle tue manie /ma non ce n'è un'altra che sia uguale a te/ una che riempie la giornata_

_I'd search for you if you left/ your flaws are essential for me/ or I would search for someone else like you/ someone who resembled you/ down to your quirks, even/ but there is nobody who's the same as you/ nobody who could fill my day_

And it's true. All of this. How did you ever get hooked on drugs when you're one in your own right I won't ever manage to understand. I tell you off all the time, and it might seem inconsistent with this, but I'm just trying to stop things from going more overboard than they are. To prevent the situation (and/or your experiments) from exploding, more or less literally. People don't _tolerate_ body parts in the bloody fridge. One is fond of them or runs for the hills. And since I didn't run, well...

Honestly, when you're bored you're this side of unbearable (and you know it), but after getting used to expecting anything anytime (and I insist on both any) you've ruined me for normal life, I'm afraid. At least totally normal (some normal I will always enjoy...and after all in this flat there must be at least half a normal person, if we want to live in the real world; you know, the one with bills).

So don't go disappearing on me, you madman. You're one of a kind (no contest here), and I don't fancy going to Sherlock rehab. 

 

_Senza i tuoi capelli che mi fan da bussola /come capirei che direzione prendere/ è questione di sopravvivenza vivere con te o stare senza te_

_Without your hair to be my compass/ how would I know which way to go/ it's a matter of survival to live with you or be without you_

That's a bit cheesy, yes. I was going to erase this part of the lyrics. Really. Then I realized without you I'd follow the same tracks everyday: flat (no, not flat – bedsit if I hadn't met you)/St.Barts/Ella – grocery store – pub or whatever the day entailed. Probably no National Antiquities Museum (surely not after-hours) or Chinese circus ( and I'd never be treated to a...private demonstration of the main attraction). That would wear (was wearing) me out. Physically. And you've seen it. Before anyone else. 

So yes, running after your curls during a case (and then God knows if I'd know whichever way to go if I lost you...but it's fine, 'cause I _have to_ not lose you anyway) is a bit of a matter of survival. Yours (will you ever understand the meaning of backup?...Of course not, who am I kidding) as much as mine, actually. Or matter of health, at the very least.

 

And now the lyrics repeated the “I'd search for you...” refrain. Twice. But since you hate repetition... And really, how did this go from 'having to get something out of my system' to 'writing to my mad flatmate since I have no privacy and no matter what I do he'll see this someday so might as well involve him in the conversation'? 

 

_Certe volte sei testarda e irraggiungibile, prendere o lasciare/ io ti prendo come sei/ è questione di sopravvivenza vivere con te o stare senza te_

_Sometimes you're stubborn and unreachable, take it or leave it/ I take you like you are /it's a matter of survival to live with you or be without you_

There. Again. The words which make me wonder if he met you when he wrote this, but it's impossible. I suppose a lot of people fit this particular bill, but few (hopefully no one else) epitomize them so well (there: one posh word for your satisfaction). I'm stubborn too, but I need to be to deal with you, so it's not much of a flaw. But unreachable? Your photo should be on the dictionary under the term unreachable. Preferably one of when you are in that mind palace of yours (like right now). You're here and you're not, and I wonder if anything less than Lestrade (or a murderer: you'd like a murderer better, right?) coming in could catch your attention. 

And yes, you're not accommodating. At all. You challenge and 'take it or leave it [me]' could be your motto (obvious, I know). And I like your mad self enough to take you exactly like you are, biohazards and all. So don't be _entirely_ reckless, will you? I like you around. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. John erased the lyrics about the singer's self-description too (it just didn't fit) and a couple lines his denial couldn't endure. In the last paragraph, writing about 'taking Sherlock like he is' almost was paraphrased to 'taking Sherlock in his raw state' when the Nile and the rating's controller balked together. XD


End file.
